


In My Darkest Hour

by Script_Savage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Comfort Toys, Daddy Coulson, Diapers, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Healing, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempts, Mommy May - Freeform, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pacifiers, Physical Therapy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Spanking, Wetting, bottles, post 3x02
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:36:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4970107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Script_Savage/pseuds/Script_Savage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fic exploring Jemma Simmons' recovery after her rescue. Contains Non-Sexual Ageplay and spanking. If that kind of thing isn't for you,  I'd suggest giving it a pass. It's darker than my other works, and it isn't connected to them in any way, but takes place in the same universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

****

[JEMMA]

****  
  


It was too quiet.

It was too quiet, and Jemma was afraid.

Fitz's thigh was warm under her cheek. Her stomach tied itself in an anxious knot, and her bladder throbbed uncomfortably. Her mind raced, eyes flickering about the room, searching desperately for some unseen threat.

Jemma knew she was far too old to be afraid of the dark, to jump at shadows, but she couldn't help herself. As drained and exhausted as she was, she couldn't relax enough to go back to sleep.

She was being irrational, she knew, but that knowledge did nothing to help quell the fear that clenched like an icy fist around her heart.  She felt small and afraid, and she couldn't close her eyes without feeling the sting of wind-driven sand on her face, or seeing flashes of bright, sharp teeth.

Jemma stumbled on shaky legs into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face and respond to the protests of her bladder; after three months of squatting in the dirt when she needed to relieve herself, using an actual toilet seemed almost foreign. It was scary too, she'd almost fallen and hit her head trying to sit down on it--her legs were even weaker than she anticipated. She at least had enough civility to wash her hands when she'd finished.

She couldn't bear the thought of sleep, even though her body was shutting down anyway. Jemma dragged herself to the kitchen to make some tea; she wasn't sure why--but her gut told her that it would probably help to ease her anxiety. She had to prop herself up against the wall, because her legs wouldn't fully support her, and she thought that Bobbi would probably be very cross with her for getting out of bed.

She leaned against the counter when she finally arrived at her destination, out of breath, and dizzy. She knew that Fitz kept the tea on the top shelf, but she was too short to reach it without a stool, and, given how unsteady she was on her feet at present, Jemma didn't think it would be a good idea to try standing on anything elevated.

Her breath caught in her throat, and out of nowhere she was crying; hard, ragged, relentless sobs. She sank the the floor, landing harder than she'd anticipated. Jemma bit down on the sleeve of her jumper, trying to muffle the noise. She was relieved when it didn't taste like dirt.

She found herself sucking on it, flashes of another life flickering behind her eyes, but it became uncomfortably wet and tasted gross after awhile, and then she was crying all over again.

"Sweetheart? What are you doing out of bed? You need to rest." Bobbi sat down next to her and stroked her cheek, fingers gentle and warm.

Jemma blinked. She wasn't sure how to explain what she'd wanted. Agent...Mommy...the woman, she would know.

May. That was her name. May would know what she needed. May always knew how to help.

But, May was gone. Maybe she'd decided Jemma was too much trouble, after she'd disappeared, and scared everyone the way she had.

"Ma-" Jemma began, but the words lodged in her throat, her tongue awkward and unresponsive after months without use. She sighed. "I...May...Want." She squeezed her eyes shut and hid her face.

She was embarrassed. That wasn't right. The words didn't fit together properly, but she couldn't for the life of her understand how to fix it. Jemma sniffled, and tried to suppress a flinch when Bobbi started rubbing her back.

Her vision tunneled and her mouth was dry. Her stomach clenched, and before she could even try to verbalize her feelings, she was retching onto the floor. Nothing came up, thankfully, but it was still scary.

"Poor baby," Bobbi said softly, and kissed her forehead. "Are you hurting?"

Jemma bit her lip. She didn't think she hurt anywhere in particular, but it was hard to tell, because her whole body felt like one giant bruise. She shook her head. She coughed again, and made a quiet mewling noise in the back of her throat.

"Do you want something to drink?"

Jemma nodded. She was very thirsty.

"There you are!" Fitz exclaimed quietly. "You scared me. Are you alright?"

Jemma was happy to see him, but she also felt guilty for scaring him. "Sor." She swallowed and shook her head. Words were hard. She took a breath and tried again. "I sorry," it still wasn't perfect, but Fitz seemed to understand what she was trying to say.

Fitz pulled her close and gave her a hug. He smelled like fresh linens and safety, and she was glad that he was close by.

Jemma had all but fallen asleep again by the time Bobbi came back with her water. It was in a glass, and that made it difficult to hold. And on top of that, her hands were shaking, and she kept spilling it down her shirt.

"Okay, little one, let's try something else." Bobbi said softly, after Jemma'd managed to spill most of the glass down her front.

Bobbi looked over at Fitz. "Do you remember where May keeps her..."

Fitz nodded, even though Jemma couldn't follow the conversation.

"They're in the cupboard above the fridge...I'm going to call her. I know she's on vacation, and maybe I'm just being selfish, but I think we need her back. Especially now."

Bobbi nodded. "Can't hurt to try..."

Fitz was leaving, and suddenly that was the most terrible thing she could imagine.

"No! Stay!" Jemma cried, hands reaching for him of their own accord.

"That's the most coherent thing she's said all day. Why don't you stay with her, and I'll call May." Bobbi suggested.

"Alright," Fitz conceded.

Bobbi took something out of the cupboard and did something to it at the sink before handing it to Fitz.

Fitz handed her a different cup, one with a lid.

Sippy.  Her brain supplied, and she knew this one, at least, wouldn't spill.

Bobbi knelt down and stroked Jemma's cheek. "Will you be okay here with Fitz for a little while?"

Jemma nodded. She'd be safe with Fitz. She reached out and wrapped her arms around Bobbi and squeezed, because you were supposed to hug people you cared about.

Bobbi squeezed back, and Jemma felt small and warm and safe. She kissed Jemma's temple and left the room.

Almost immediately after Bobbi had gone, Skye came in and took some painkillers while Jemma drank from her sippy cup. It was just water, but it had been so long since she'd had anything to drink that wasn't dirt-flavored, that it was wonderful. She swallowed some more water and leaned against Fitz's chest.

"You okay?"  His chest rumbled as he spoke.

Skye took an energy drink out of the fridge and cracked it open. She chugged it down fast, and the thought that May wouldn't approve of her beverage choice only made Jemma miss her more.

Skye wiped her mouth. "Never better." She sounded angry and stressed, and she looked like she was only seconds away from breaking something, or bursting into tears.

"May'd be furious if she knew what you were doing."

"Well, May isn't here!" Skye snapped, "She left just like everyone else." She cried quietly for a moment, and then looked up, scrubbing at her eyes.

Jemma's chest hurt. She wanted to hug Skye, but she wasn't sure she could walk that far.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. I'm just a little overwhelmed."

"'S okay." Fitz motioned Skye to sit down with them on the couch. "Thank you." He said. "I'd never have been able to rescue Jemma without you."

Skye nibbled her thumb. "You'd have found a way. But, you're welcome. I'm glad I could help."

Jemma took hold of Skye's hand. "Thanks."

Skye shrugged. "Fitz did all the heavy lifting. I'm glad you're safe, Jems. I was really worried about you."

Jemma nodded. She'd been worried too.

Skye sighed and sat next to Jemma. "I miss my blanket." She said quietly.

Jemma blinked. What had happened to Skye's blanket? "Skye?" She began, only to realize she had no idea what she was going to say.

"It's Daisy,"  she corrected, gentle and soft. "I know it's a lot to take in." Daisy sounded almost guilty.

Jemma nodded once and leaned against Fitz again. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. She was so tired...

"Hey, guys. I have good news. May's on her way home." Bobbi said.

Jemma smiled. That was good. May could fix everything. May could help her feel safe again.

"So what? She's just going to leave again." Skye--Daisy--folded her arms and her mouth compressed into a thin, bitter line.

"That's not fair, Daisy. She's trying. May is very busy, just like the rest of us, and just like you. I know it's tough, and we've been through a lot, but try to remember that, okay?"

"Whatever." Daisy sneered. "You're not the boss of me."

Bobbi looked tired. "Do I need to get Coulson?"

"Do what you want. I'm not Little now. I haven't been since May left. Stop treating me like a kid."

"Then stop acting like one!" Bobbi snapped.

Jemma curled against Fitz and shut her eyes. She couldn't deal with yelling, not so soon after everything. She was crying, and a mess and she felt bad for getting Fitz's shirt messy, bet he just held onto her tighter. He didn't seem upset and she was glad.

Bobbi lowered her voice. "You think you're the only one who got dealt a shitty hand? Everyone on this plane has been in a living hell for the past six months. Just because you took a few hits doesn't give you license to treat everyone else like dirt. You're not the only one suffering."

"My mom died, trying to murder me. My dad killed her, to protect me, because I didn't think it was right to sacrifice everyone else for some kind of master-species crusade. And on top of that, my father doesn't even know who I am."

"I can't imagine how terrible that must have been for you, and I'm not gonna tell you I understand, because I don't. But, this is a team, a family. We all have to support each other, especially when things get tough."

"Then why don't you tell that to May?"

Daisy was trembling now, tears dripping off her chin. She shoved off the couch and stepped past Bobbi, and disappeared down the hallway.

Bobbi watched her go and sighed. "Poor kid,"

Jemma peeked out from Fitz's shoulder. Yelling was loud and scary, and she'd had enough 'loud-and-scary' to last her a lifetime. She eased her hands away from her ears.

Daisy came back with a well-worn stuffed rabbit that Jemma recognized instantly, and a dummy. "I thought you might want these." She said, handing the items to Jemma, and then she was gone again.

Jemma hugged the rabbit, rubbing its soft fur over her cheek. It grounded her, made her feel secure. She slid the dummy hesitantly between her lips and looked away from Fitz, embarrassed. She knew this wasn't exactly normal, at least, she didn't think so, but it helped so much...

"Hey," Fitz said gently. "You don't have to hide. Not from me."

Jemma hummed contentedly and pressed against him, safe at last.

And then she was drifting.

*.*.*.*.

[LEO]

Jemma was drooling on his shirt, but he didn't care. He was just glad she was sleeping--the nightmares kept her up most nights. She didn't like to talk about what had happened on the other planet, but he wasn't going to push; she would tell him when she was ready.

If he was being honest, he was just glad she was safe.

So, so glad.

If he'd been just a second later in grabbing her...

"Does she need..." Bobbi broke into his thoughts. "Diapers at night? Like Daisy?"

Fitz shook his head. "I don't think so. She's been bunking with me for the past few nights, and we haven't had any issues...It's more of a comfort thing for her, I think."

"Okay." Bobbi said. She sank down onto the couch next to him.

"She thinks you don't know about that, by the way. The nappies l, I mean. Ever since May left and she started trying to put this team together for Coulson, she's been trying to hide it even more. I actually think the stress makes it even worse for her. She hasn't been able to...unwind for a while, and I think it's getting to her. Daisy's trying so hard to fill May's shoes while she's away, on top of trying to keep up with all her other responsibilities." Fitz swallowed. "I think it just reminds her of how much she misses her."

Bobbi rubbed his arm. "I think you're right. She's running herself ragged trying to do everything on her own. Talent and ambition aren't the same as wisdom and experience, even if she does have superpowers."

"Maybe May can help when she gets here." Fitz mused, stroking Jemma's hair absently.

"I hope so," Bobbi said, and brushed her fingers through his curls gently. "Get some rest, okay?"

Fitz nodded and yawned, realizing for the first time how utterly exhausted he was. He leaned back against the couch and shut his eyes--he wasn't sure he wanted to sleep, because Jemma might need him, but he also knew he wouldn't be any good to her if he wasn't adequately rested.

The sound of Jemma nursing on her dummy was oddly soothing, if only because it meant she trusted him to keep her safe while she was Little.

He yawned, tired enough to feel it in his bones, and allowed sleep to claim him.

*.*.*.*.

[DAISY]

The mannequin's head exploded, and Daisy sighed. That was the fourth training dummy she'd destroyed in the past day and a half; Coulson was gonna be pissed.

She understood where Bobbi was coming from, she really did, and Maybe she shouldn't have been so quick to get angry...

But couldn't Bobbi see that she was already stretched too thin?

Coulson wanted the new team put together, and Dr. Garner wasn't cooperating and May, the one person who could have helped her to sort through the mess that was currently her life, was nowhere to be found.

And they hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms...

On top of attacking May in Afterlife, she'd laid the woman's deepest, most personal secret bare in front of Coulson, used it as a weapon against her.  She'd been misguided, fueled by a desperate hope that she'd finally found her family after twenty-six years of disappointment, and too blinded by that same hope to realize that she'd had one already.

She wouldn't blame May if she hated her.

Daisy really needed some Little time,  to relieve some of the awful tension that weighed down on her very being. The bedwetting hadn't stopped, but she was a leader now, she couldn't afford to show weakness. And that meant keeping an even tighter lid on it.

She felt sick and exhausted and beaten, but she had to carry on.

That's what May would have done.

She piled the remains of the destroyed training dummy in a corner and headed toward her bunk to shower.

She'd been staring at the floor, and ran headlong into someone in her distracted state.

"Sorry," she said immediately.

"No harm done," May said, and Daisy immediately looked up. May gave her an appraising once-over. "It's good to see you, Daisy. Are you doing alright?"

Somehow, that made her feel even worse, because of course May would know that she'd changed her name. She barely managed a nod.

"Good. Did you raid my closet while I was away?"

Daisy shook her head. "No. I just wanted to wear something more functional. I'm heading up a project for Coulson, and I figured that if I'm going to be in charge, I'd better look the part."

"He told me," May said, and smiled a little. "It's a good look for you."

"Thanks...Hey...about before..." Daisy squirmed uncomfortably. "I was out of line. I shouldn't have said what I said to you, and I shouldn't have attacked you in Afterlife. You were only trying to help; I understand that now. I'm sorry."

May nodded. "We all say things we regret when we're angry. It's alright. I forgive you. You were caught in the middle of a very ugly situation, it's only human to lash out when you feel trapped." She squeezed Daisy's arm.

"Thank you." Daisy said, holding back a tear with a heroic amount of effort. "Fitz and Simmons are in the lounge sleeping. It's been a rough couple of days."

May's face softened. "How is she?"

"It's really bad, May. Even Fitz wasn't this messed up when he came out of his coma. I'm glad you came. She needs you."

We all need you.

"I know." May said. "I'll be by to check on you later." Her tone suggested that even though she hid it well, she knew that Daisy was struggling too.

Jemma's scream tore through the base, and both women flinched.

"It's like this every night." Daisy said, and wiped at her eyes.

  
"I'll go check on her." May answered. She gave Daisy a brief, tender hug. "I missed you too, you know." She said, and turned away to make good on her word.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the tense switch. I realize it's a little jarring, but I really think the story works better this way.
> 
> Thanks for reading; let me know what you think!

[JEMMA]

 

She doesn’t mean to scream. She never does. She’s put all of them to enough trouble trying to find her…

 

But, Jemma’s guilt over the matter is irrelevant.The scream is instinctive,, involuntary. Unfortunately, it’s also very loud, which means that every predator within earshot is going to descend on her very shortly.

 

She has to run.

 

Now.

 

She sits bolt upright, reaching for the makeshift knife under her pillow, only to remember that she's not in her bed. She's...

 

_Oh. Right._

 

"It's alright." Fitz's voice is calm and steady and warm. "It was only a dream."

 

Intellectually, Jemma understands the concept, that she's not on that horrible, alien planet anymore, but it's still difficult for her to ground herself again, to be sure that it really was only a dream.

 

"Simmons? Jemma, look at me," That's May's voice. She'd know it anywhere.

 

She'd heard Fitz most often, begging her to hold on a little longer, that he was coming, but he needed more time, but sometimes, May had spoken to Jemma during her sojourn, her calm, patient instruction on wilderness first-aid, and how to build a shelter had been invaluable.

 

It hadn't been real then, just a hallucination, a cruel trick of her exhausted and battered psyche, but May is here now, her warm, gentle fingers wiping Jemma's tears away.

 

"It's alright. You're safe now Jemma. You're okay. Shh."

 

Her knees buckle beneath her without her permission, but May is quick to catch her before she hits the floor.

 

"I've got you. It's alright." May says softly.

 

Instead of helping Jemma to stand up, she cradles her in her arms and stands up instead.

 

If Jemma had more energy, she thinks, she might be embarrassed, or even irritated at not being allowed the opportunity to do things for herself, but at the moment, she is too exhausted to feel anything other than gratitude.

 

She'd be upset about a few things actually, she's just trying to hold it together and be _normal_. (How does one define 'normal' anyway? It's really a rather subjective term...) Also, she wishes that people would stop telling her that things are 'alright', because they are so, _so_ far removed from actually being 'alright' that they may as well be in another universe entirely.

 

The grim irony of that particular thought isn't lost on her, and she'd laugh about it, but she doesn't trust herself not to sound like a) a pathetic,broken husk-person or b) a complete raving lunatic.

 

She doesn't want to scare them. She can't bear the thought of being alone again.

 

"Let's get you to bed, baby." Mommy says, interrupting her thoughts. "You've had a tough couple of days."

 

Jemma nods, more in acquiescence than out of a genuine desire to sleep, but she doesn't have the energy to really fight it. And besides, she's a doctor. She knows that one of the most important things for any kind of recovery is rest.

 

She lolls against May as the woman carries her to her bedroom. It makes her uneasy that she can't see Fitz, but she can hear his footsteps and that helps. May lays her down on the bed and rummages through her dresser.

 

"What happened to all your diapers, little one?" May's voice is gentle and kind, and she doesn't sound like she expects an answer.

 

Jemma shrugs.

 

"They're in storage. We can go dig them out, but I think Daisy can spare a few for now." Bobbi supplies helpfully.

 

May nods and looks at Jemma. "Will you be alright if I leave you here with Fitz and Bobbi for a bit?"

 

Jemma nods. May kisses her forehead.

 

"I'll be right back," May tells her, and then she's gone.

 

Fitz lies down next to her and she curls up next to him, resting her head on his chest. The effort of performing that small task is greater than she thinks it should be, and she realizes that she must be even more malnourished than she thought.

 

"You okay, cutie?" Bobbi asks softly, fingers combing through her hair, nails gentle and soothing against her scalp.

 

Jemma shakes her head. No, no no, she is most certainly not okay; and even though she knows this, it's impossible to articulate at the moment. She feels around on the bed to find her dummy-- _god_ , she's a _mess_ \--in a weak attempt to avoid conversation by sucking it. She feels, rather than hears, herself make a quiet noise of discomfort. She is _such_ a _baby_.

 

If she's being honest, other than Fitz, this is what she'd missed the most, the sense of security that sucking a dummy or wearing a nappy gives her. After the hell she's just endured, she'll never take that for granted again.

 

But, she's home now.

 

Home.

 

At first it's terrible, because home, hasn't been a permanent thing, at all really. Her mother doesn't want anything to do with her.

 

Then, there was the BUS, which, in all honesty, was her first real home. And then Ward was a traitor, and had almost succeeded in his attempt to kill both her and Fitz, and even though they'd come back to it, it, eventually, was gone too.

 

After that was the Playground, and then...well...

 

And that's when home and Fitz became one and the same. As long as they are together, she is home.

 

Because, after all, home is where the heart is.

  
  


*.*.*.*.

 

[MELINDA]

 

Her kids are a mess.

 

She may not have given birth to any of them, but they are hers, and she knows them, perhaps better than they know themselves. And, they've been through a lot over the past two years.

 

It's taken a toll on all of them.

 

The three youngest agents have perhaps had more than their fair share of hardship, and it's worse for them, because they haven't lived this life long enough to know that these kinds of things are to be expected.

 

Friends die. You get hurt. You find out who your real friends are, and where your breaking point is.

 

And all three of them are just about wrung out.

 

She can read it in Jemma's haunted gaze and too-thin figure. She can see it in the set of Fitz's jaw, the forward slump of his shoulders; and she can see it in Daisy's ragged fingernails and the dark, heavy circles under her eyes.

 

May knocks on Daisy's door.

 

"It's open," Daisy's voice is weary and rough, and when Melinda enters, she's hunched over her laptop, rubbing her eyes.

Daisy's bunk is neat and orderly, though it smells faintly of baby powder.

 

"It's just me." May announces, gentle, safe. Daisy looks like she's falling apart, tearing at the seams, barely holding it together.

 

May cuts to the chase. "Can you spare a couple diapers for Simmons until we can get her things out of storage?"

 

Daisy tenses. "Yeah. They're in the top drawer."

 

Melinda retrieves what she needs and turns back to Daisy. "You okay? You look rough, sweetheart."

 

Daisy sighs. "I'm fine, Mom." And then she freezes.

 

Melinda is stunned. Daisy's called her 'Mommy' before, but never 'Mom'. Especially not after what happened to Jaiying...

 

Daisy stiffens and looks away. "Just go take care of Simmons. Please."

 

"Daisy..." Melinda reaches out to her, slow and careful.

 

"I _said: leave me alone!_ " Daisy growls. The floor beneath them trembles, and that, combined with the expression on Daisy's face would be terrifying if Melinda didn't know her.

 

Melinda folds her arms and stared at Daisy. She is, at least privately, a little amused at Daisy's attempt to intimidate her, but she's also annoyed. Little or not, Agent or not, Daisy is old enough to know that her behavior is unacceptable.

 

Melinda's heart aches for the young woman, but that doesn't mean she's going to allow her to misbehave, even if she's upset.

 

"I will leave you alone if that's what you want. But, _young lady_ , you had better mind your attitude, or you're going to find yourself in serious trouble. Do I make myself clear?" Melinda's voice is firm,but not unkind.

 

"Yes ma'am." Daisy's voice is subdued. "I'm sorry."

 

Melinda pulls Daisy into a hug because that's what she really needs: to know that someone cares about her. God knows these kids haven't had near enough of that lately.

 

"It's okay. Clean slate. You're welcome to come and sleep in my room if you want."

 

Daisy shrugs. "Maybe tomorrow night. If you stay that long."

 

Melinda doesn't miss the hurt in Daisy's voice. "I'm not going anywhere. Not until you're all okay."

 

Daisy leans into Melinda, and Melinda just holds her and rubs her back. She presses a kiss to Daisy's forehead.

 

"Good night. I love you." Daisy says quietly.

 

"I love you too kiddo." Melinda says. "You know where to find me if you change your mind."

 

Daisy just nods.

 

Against her better judgement, Melinda closes the door behind her. She doesn't want to allow an argument, doesn't want to leave that choice up to Daisy, because she knows that Daisy will wait until she's really in distress to ask for help, and she hates to see her in pain.

 

But, Daisy doesn't seem ready for that yet, doesn't trust Melinda to make decisions for her. The realization stings, but Melinda knows that she's earned that by being absent for six months...

 

She sighs, her heart heavy.

 

She'll...

 

She'll talk to Phil.

 

Maybe he'll know how to help them.

 

*.*.*.*.

 

[DAISY]

 

The desire to scream or cry or break something is overwhelming.

 

She called May 'Mom'.

 

It isn't so much the action that upsets her--it's the fact that it's too soon. She hasn't had enough time to deal with everything that transpired in Afterlife and on the _Illiad_.

 

Her mom, her real, biological mother tried to kill her...she doesn't think she'll ever be able to come to terms with that. As if she doesn't have enough issues with abandonment already...

 

She's been doing so well with being self-sufficient, being a leader and not needing any Little time or comfort.

 

And then, just like that, she's back to square one.

 

_I'm so pathetic_...

 

But, Daisy knows that the adult thing to do, would be...to get really drunk.

 

She shuts her laptop carefully; she's too tired to make any more _real_ progress tracking new Inhumans tonight.

  
  


And, she knows where Coulson hides the good whiskey.

 

She's not expecting to find Lance in the kitchen, however.

 

He passes her a beer and sits down across from her at the table. "Long day?"

 

"Where do I even start?" Daisy mutters, taking a swig. "How about you?"

 

"Well, May hasn't strangled me yet, so I can't complain." Hunter is aloof and nonchalant as always.

 

"You guys are working together?" That knowledge stings more than it should. "How did you find her?"

 

"It took a lot of digging, and she tried to kill me when I found her, at least until she realized it was me..."

 

Daisy takes another pull from the bottle. "Where was she?"

 

"That's classified." Lance says.

 

"Bullshit." Daisy sneers.

 

"Hey, ease up kinderkiller. I'm not pulling rank, it's just not my place to tell you." He eyes her carefully. "Look, if you really want to know, just ask her."

 

"I called her 'Mom'." Daisy doesn't mean to tell him, but the words spill out anyway.

 

"You say that like you just committed murder, or something. I really don't think she minds, Daisy. She talks about you guys all the time. You mean a lot to her." Lance takes a drink.

 

Daisy sighs. "I know. I just feel stupid."

 

"If she had a problem with it, she'd have told you, kid. Don't worry about it."

 

"You didn't tell me you were coming back so soon." Bobbi says from the doorway. She casts a glance at Daisy. "Jemma's asking for you."

 

Daisy downs the rest of her beer in one long gulp and nods at Bobbi before  turning back to Hunter.

 

"Thanks," She says, and then heads down the hall to May's room.

 

Leo and Jemma are on May's bed, Jemma curled tightly against Fitz.

 

She surprises Daisy by reaching out for a hug, but Daisy is glad that she's asking for what she needs.

 

Jemma's sucking her dummy, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy. She's always been slight, but now she looks tiny.

 

She's too thin, and she's wearing some of May's clothes, and even though she's close to May's size, she's positively drowning in her sweatshirt.

 

Her grip, is surprisingly strong, her embrace makes it difficult to breathe, but Daisy can't bring herself to complain about it. It feels nice, and it's been too long since she's had a proper hug.

 

Daisy settles in on Jemma's other side and she finds herself reaching over to hold Fitz's hand.

 

"I'm glad you got her back Fitz."

 

Fitz nods, and he looks absolutely exhausted. "Yeah. Me too."

 

Daisy's eyes are suddenly unbearably heavy, and she thinks that it might be okay if she maybe closes her eyes for just a little while...

 

Jemma's little fingers twist themselves into her shirt, and she realizes that she's not going anywhere now.

 

But that's alright.

 

She's home.


	3. Chapter 3

[DAISY]

 

"Daisy. Daisy, wake up."

 

Daisy is awake in an instant, processing everything she can about her environment in her first inhale.

 

Fitz and Simmons are still asleep, breathing softly, curled into each other. Safe.

 

"It's just me," May's voice is gentle  and calm. "We need to get you ready for bed sweetheart."

 

Something uncoils within her at the tenderness in May’s tone. Part of her wants to be angry and hurt and maybe there’s a little bit of petty jealousy there too, because, for the last six months, she’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the news that May wasn’t coming back, which, admittedly is her choice, and Daisy can’t honestly be mad at that--May’s been with S.H.I.E.L.D. longer than she’s been alive.

 

But…

 

The truth of the matter is: May was her Mommy first.

 

She’d provided the comfort and stability she’d needed as Skye to go from a troubled hacktivist, to a fully-fledged Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. (Even if it was only for a day…)

 

And then, when that world collapsed around her ears, May had been there to help her pick up the pieces and reassure her that things would turn out alright. And, at least for a while, they had been. And then, after she’d gotten her powers and met Jaiying and learned about her past, May still hadn’t given up on her.

 

Then came _Afterlife_ and the massacre on the _Illiad_. So many innocent people, killed because of Jaiying’s predjudices…

 

That, Daisy supposed, hurt the most. With Jaiying dead and Cal’s memory wiped, her S.H.I.E.L.D. family, the first real one she’d ever had, was suddenly the _only_ one she had, and that’s when May had left.

 

She’d known that May had had her reasons, and that after everything she’d been through, she’d deserved some time off…

  
But…

 

It still hurts.

 

"Mommy?" Daisy doesn't mean to slip back into the routine so easily, but she is so _tired_ of being strong, of being a leader.

 

Maybe...

 

Maybe it's okay to let someone take care of her for a change.

 

Daisy shakes her head. She can’t let herself fall into that routine so quickly.

 

“I’m here, sweetheart.” May says, stroking Daisy’s cheek. “We need to get you ready for bed, baby. Can you go pick out some pajamas? I’ll be in in a minute to help you get dressed, but you can’t sleep in your clothes.”

 

“I can handle it.” Daisy says, but she relents at the hurt that flickers  over May’s face. May isn’t one to wear her heart on her sleeve, but after countless hours of training with her, Daisy can tell when she’s hit a nerve. “I mean,” she bites her lip. “Can we just...talk first?”

 

May nods. “Sure. Meet you in the kitchen?”

 

Daisy returns the nod. This is one old ritual she doesn’t mind keeping. The kitchen is a neutral space, and the team has all logged some late-night conversations there at one time or another. Daisy’s just finished taking the tea out of the microwave--something that Fitz and Simmons tease her mercilessly over--when May catches up to her.

 

“Is everything alright?” May wonders.

 

“Yeah.” Daisy replies, though she’s tempted just to break down in tears on the spot. She really doesn’t want to have this conversation, doesn’t want to acknowledge the fact that May could be leaving at any time when she just came back, but it needs to be done.

 

“Look,” She begins her mouth dry. “I know you’re just trying to help…” she swallows, her stomach ties itself in an anxious knot. “But, I can’t do this, May. If you’re not going to stay, then I think it’s for the best if I just...take care of myself.” The admission is like a sucker-punch, driving the breath from her lungs and leaving nothing but a deep, throbbing ache in its place.

 

May raises an eyebrow. “Who said I was leaving?”

 

Daisy fidgets, uncomfortable at being called out for jumping to conclusions; this is pretty much how every relationship in her life has proceeded thus far, and as much as she wishes for something to turn out right for once, the part of her capable of pure, optimistic hope has taken one too many hits lately... “No one did. I just…” she takes a breath, tries to collect herself, but everything comes spilling out anyway. “You left. I needed you, and you left. I know it’s selfish of me to bring it up, but _I needed you._ And you left me, just like everyone else.”

 

Her breath catches, and, great, now she’s crying. Way to be a grown-up, Daisy. “I can’t do that again. Not after Jaiying, and Cal. I can’t lose you too.” She scrubs frantically at her  eyes, trying to wipe away the tears before May can see them. There’s no doubt in her mind that the older woman knows that she’s crying, but the lack of visual evidence makes her feel a little more in-control.

 

“Baby.” May says softly, reaching out to pull Daisy into a hug, one that she doesn’t have the energy to resist. “I know you’re  hurting right now, and I can’t imagine how difficult these last few months have been for you. But, the way you’re feeling right now, it’s not a very good feeling is it?”

 

“No,” Daisy answers, and she’s more than a little embarrassed at how pitiful and small her voice sounds.

 

“Well, as much as you’re hurting right now, I made someone else feel like that too, for a much longer period of time. I had to make amends, explain to them that it wasn’t their fault that I left.”

 

“Oh. What happened?”

 

“Before I went on the mission to Bahrain, Andrew and I were planning on starting a family of our own.” Both of them wince at the name. “After what happened, I just couldn’t see myself living that life anymore. So, I pulled away from him. I couldn’t explain to him how I felt, because I didn’t really understand it myself. Eventually we split apart. I went into administration because I  couldn’t bear the thought of having something like that happen again. And, that’s where Coulson found me.”

 

Daisy swallowed hard.

 

“And then he convinced me to join this team--I was only supposed to be flying the plane. Then, you came along.” May pauses and gives Daisy a squeeze. “At first, I’ll admit that I didn’t like you very much, but that was only because you were so innocent and driven, and I knew what this line of work did to people like you...I didn’t want to see that spirit ruined. When Coulson explained that you were looking for your parents, it only made that worse, because I knew that if it didn’t turn out well, you’d only be worse off.”

 

Daisy nodded. “I thought you hated me,” she admits. “I was terrified of you finding out that I was Little. I thought you’d kick me off the plane, and then I’d really have nowhere to go. I’m glad you didn’t.”

 

May presses a kiss to her forehead. “Me too.”

 

“You’re really not leaving?” Daisy wonders.

 

May wipes some stray tears off Daisy’s cheeks gently before answering. “I’ll have to go back into the field with Hunter eventually, but I’ll be around for a while.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Did I hear my name?” Hunter saunters into the room.

 

“I didn’t hear anyone say ‘dumbass’...” Daisy teases, and receives a sharp swat to the backside when she gets up to give Hunter a hug.

 

She sucks in a breath. It isn’t really that painful, but it is certainly shocking, since May has never done anything like that before. She turns around to gape at May.

 

“Watch your mouth,” is all May says.

 

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Hunter responds.

 

Daisy pokes her tongue out at him. It’s nice. She’s missed being able to tease someone without ruffling their feathers.

 

Hunter grins and pulls her into an enthusiastic embrace, pressing his knuckles firmly into her scalp.

 

“Leave the poor kid alone, Lance.” Bobbi says from the entryway to the kitchen, grinning at Daisy.

 

"Are you ready for bed, sweetheart?" May wonders.

 

Daisy barely manages to yawn before she is ambushed by an enormous yawn. She takes May's hand and allows herself to be led away to her bedroom.

 

It's only after May's finished taping on her diaper that she realizes how much she's missed this. She's glad when May doesn't bother putting on her pants, leaving her in just a long t-shirt and diaper; she feels very little this way, she's definitely not in charge.

 

Her thumb slips into her mouth without her permission. "I'm sleepy, Mommy." She says.

 

"I know baby. You've had a rough time lately, haven't you?"

 

Daisy nods, and she's crying again, but somehow, it doesn't seem to matter, because Mommy is with her, and she can make it better. She takes May's hand again and lets May lead her back to bed and tuck her in with Leo and Jemma.

 

"Time for bed, baby." May says softly, kissing her forehead. "You'll feel better in the morning."

 

"Will you still be here?"

 

Mommy nods. "Of course. And if you three behave tomorrow morning, we'll go out for breakfast."

 

Daisy smiles. That sounds like a lot of fun. "'Kay. Goodnight, Mommy, I love you." She says around her thumb.

 

"I love you too, baby." Mommy says.

 

And then, she's drifting.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings this chapter for referenced/implied suicide attempts.

[JEMMA]

 

There’s a cool, damp patch along the inside of her thigh.

 

Jemma feels the sheets around her, embarrassed and shaken. She supposes she should have expected something like this; she hasn’t even been back for three days yet, of course she’s still adjusting, and given her mostly liquid diet, something like this is to be expected…Even if her diaper hardly ever leaks.

 

Thankfully,the sheets aren’t wet, but she’s quite uncomfortable, and she needs to wash these clothes because they aren’t even hers, and somehow that just makes the whole situation worse. She manages to wriggle out of Fitz’s grasp without waking him--thank goodness--and she manages to duck out of the room without waking anyone, which seems like a miracle in itself, and she makes it all the way to the bathroom to get a towel, because she can’t very well stand in the laundry room naked while she waits for May’s clothes to cycle through the wash.

 

Her legs start shaking when she reaches the kitchen, and Bobbi’s there, sipping some tea or hot chocolate out of a mug.

 

“Hey, kiddo,” Bobbi says softly. “Bad dreams?”

 

Jemma sniffles. She isn’t entirely sure when she started crying, but it’s too late to do anything about it now. She shakes her head, and grits her teeth when her stomach rolls uncomfortably. Her equilibrium has been off since she got back, and it makes her queasy sometimes.

 

“No…” the words: I’m wet get stuck in her throat and she ends up crying harder instead of talking. She’s such a baby…

 

Luckily, Bobbi is like May, and she can figure out what’s wrong without Jemma having to say anything,and she is so, so grateful for that.

 

“I think I know what’s wrong. Come here, little one. We’ll get you some dry pants and clean clothes while we wash those wet ones.” Bobbi says, holding out a hand.

 

Jemma toddles closer, her legs weak and trembly and takes Bobbi’s hand.

 

“Do you want a bath?” Bobbi wonders.

 

Jemma realizes then that her shirt is a little wet too. It clings uncomfortably to her skin, and she feels little and gross as she sobs and leans into Bobbi.

 

Bobbi coos at her and lifts her onto her hip. “Poor baby,” she says softly. “You’re having a tough time, huh?”

 

Jemma nods pitifully into Bobbi’s neck.

 

“Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll have you clean and dry in no time.” Bobbi kisses her temple, and she feels a little better then.

 

Bobbi runs her a bath and strips her out of her clothes before lifting her onto the closed toilet lid in her private bathroom. The porcelain is cold on her bare bottom, but she doesn’t complain.

 

“I’m going to go get you some clean clothes and a fresh diaper. I’ll be right back. You stay right there, okay little one?”

 

Jemma nods.

 

“I mean it, Jemma. You need to stay put; I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself. I’m going to be very upset with you if you don’t listen, understand?”

 

“Yes.” Jemma says.

 

“Where’s your binky, sweetheart?”

 

Jemma is embarrassed, because she must have been trying to suck her dummy without it actually being in her mouth again. She shrugs, although she’s pretty sure she left it back in May’s room.

 

Bobbi opens the medicine cabinet and takes out one of Jemma’s spares, sliding it gently between her teeth.

 

“There we go,” she says. “Just yell if you need anything while I’m gone.”

 

Bobbi kisses Jemma’s forehead and leaves to fetch her things.

 

Jemma feels oddly lonely when Bobbi’s out of the room, but she isn’t gone long, so Jemma doesn’t feel like she needs to cry about it, even though it’s hard not to.

 

“Good girl.” Bobbi says. “Thank you very much for being so well-behaved. Do you want bubbles?”

 

Jemma shakes her head; she doesn’t feel particularly playful. “No, thank you.”

 

Bobbi helps her into the bath,  and the water is just the right temperature. She helps Jemma wash thoroughly and carefully,although she has to rescue Jemma’s dummy from the water a few times, since she’s starting to nod off.

 

“Such a sleepy baby,” Bobbi says gently, wrapping Jemma in a warm, fluffy towel. “We’re almost done, I promise.”

 

Bobbi lifts Jemma onto her hip and carries her back to her bedroom. Her bedroom has an en suite bathroom too, and Jemma wonders if all the senior agents get those…

 

Lance is in the bathroom when they arrive, but Bobbi makes him close the door before she puts Jemma into a clean diaper and helps her into her pajamas.

 

She’s gentle when she rubs the soothing cream into Jemma’s skin and tapes her diaper into place. She helps Jemma tug an oversized sweatshirt over her head and helps her into what she suspects are Hunter’s spare gym shorts.

 

“There we go,” Bobbi says. “All better.”

 

Jemma swallows hard. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

 

Bobbi kisses her cheek. “Of course you can, cutie-pie.”

 

Jemma lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

 

“Do you need a bottle before bed?”

 

Jemma shakes her head. She’s a little hungry, but she really just wants to sleep. However, her stomach has other ideas, and it growls rather loudly.

 

“My goodness, little one, are you sure? I think we’d better feed that monster in your tummy before he wakes everyone up!”

 

Despite herself, Jemma giggles. It feels so good to laugh again.

 

“How about some ice cream?” Bobbi suggests.

 

Jemma presses her lips together. May would never let her have ice cream this late at night, but Bobbi is technically her S.O., so she supposes it’s alright…

 

She nods.

 

Bobbi grins. “Don’t worry, honey, it’s our little secret.”

 

“Were you really about to organize a covert ice-cream raid on the fridge without me? I’m insulted.” Lance says as he emerges from the bathroom, dressed in sweatpants and an old t-shirt.

 

“You can come too, you big softie.” Bobbi grins at Hunter.

 

Jemma’s happy about getting a special treat, but even though she hasn’t moved around much, she’s not sure her legs will carry her all the way to the kitchen and back. It’s so far, but Bobbi’s already done so much and she’s such a baby, and she doesn’t want to be more of a burden.

 

Despite her desire to not be a burden, she’s crying again. She buries her face in the too-long sleeves of her borrowed sweatshirt and bawls, trying to muffle her sobs by biting her lip, ignoring the coppery tang in her mouth.

 

“Hey, hey, hey, little one. What’s’matter?” Bobbi’s voice is so gentle and tender, and Jemma doesn’t know how to cope with so much affection. “Oh, honey...come here.”

 

Bobbi doesn’t wait for Jemma to move, she simply scoops her up, rocking her gently and patting her bottom in a soothing rhythm. “I thought you liked ice-cream, baby…”

 

“I do,” Jemma says thickly. “I just...I don’t think I can walk that far. My legs hurt.” The throbbing, aching sensation of overworked muscles is not an unfamiliar one, but right now, it seems like way too much to cope with.

 

“That’s okay. We can eat in here.” Bobbi says.

 

Jemma just snuggles closer to her in response, unable to verbalize her gratitude.

 

“Do you want chocolate syrup or sprinkles on yours?” Hunter asks, and it takes Jemma a moment to realize he’s talking to her. She shakes her head. She likes chocolate syrup, but she’s afraid it will be too rich for her after so long away from earth food…

 

“Okay. What flavor do you want?” Lance continues like it’s no big deal.

 

“‘anilla.” Jemma murmurs, that seems like a safe choice.

 

“Alright. I’ll be back in a minute.” Hunter says, and then, he’s gone.

 

Bobbi continues to rock her while Hunter is away, slow and safe and soothing.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jemma says after a moment. “I don’t mean to be so much trouble.”

 

“You’re no trouble at all, little one.”

 

“But I am.” Jemma insists. “I kept you up, and now I’m too much of a mess for you to even go to the kitchen without me…”

 

Bobbi helps Jemma sit up. “Hey, now. You didn’t keep me up; I don’t get to bed until late most nights anyway. And, little girl, we’re a team. Do you know what that means?”

 

Jemma doesn’t really have an answer, isn’t sure she’s meant to respond at all, so she stays quiet.

 

“It means: Together, Everyone Achieves More. And , even more importantly,” Bobbi pauses to take her tablet off the bedside table, thumbing the screen to life. “We’re a family.” she opens a word processing application and spells out the word:

 

_**F-Friends** _

_**A-Anchors** _

_**M-Mentors** _

_**I-Instructors** _

_**L-Lifelines** _

_**Y-Yours.** _

 

It’s a bit difficult to read, because her eyes are swimming with tears, but the short, concise poem spells out Bobbi’s message quite clearly, and Jemma is so overcome by emotion that all she can do is wrap her arms around Bobbi and squeeze for all she’s worth.

 

“See? You don’t ever have to be ashamed of being needy. That’s what we’re here for.”

 

*.*.*.*.

 

[MELINDA]

 

“Excuse me, Agent May,” Jemma’s voice is full of forced cheerfulness, which May knows because it’s five A.M., and although the young scientist has always been punctual, any attempt to rouse her before seven has required copious amounts of coffee and plenty of space until the caffeine kicks in.

 

May pauses her tai-chi sequence and turns to face Simmons. “Yes?”

 

“I was wondering, if you wouldn’t mind some company...I’d like to brush up on my self-defense training if that’s alright. And...I think I’d like to formally pass the field exam.”

 

The angles of Jemma’s posture are at odds with her voice, May realizes. She’s hiding something.

 

May allows herself to relax--it would be detrimental to Jemma’s self confidence if she were to realize how easy to read she’s become. “Oh? What brought this on?”

 

Jemma wrings her hands in the hem of her sweatshirt; it’s another article of clothing that’s too big for her, and May suspects that she’s borrowed it from Bobbi. “I just...I don’t like to feel helpless.” she says finally.

 

“I can understand that. I don’t mind training you, but I won’t have you using it to justify skipping therapy sessions, is that understood?”

 

Jemma’s only response is an uneasy nod.

 

“I know you don't like talking about what happened, Jemma, and that’s okay. But, if you really want to be a field agent, your mental health is just as important as your physical health.”

 

Jemma sighs. And she looks so young, and afraid and vulnerable, that Melinda wants to take back the offer and spend the next few weeks off the grid, in a quiet place, with Phil and the kids until they stopped looking so ragged and haunted.

 

“I know.”

 

May crosses the room and pulls Jemma close.

 

“I’m glad you’re safe, Jemma. I was very worried about you. We’ll take it slow, okay. First we need to get you healthy again, and then we’ll worry about getting you combat-ready.” Jemma’s leaning rather heavily on her now, trying to disguise her trembling.

 

Melinda can feel Jemma’s ribs beneath the thick, soft material of her sweatshirt. “We’re going out for breakfast this morning. Is there anywhere specific you’d like to go?”

 

Jemma just shrugs. “I’m not hungry.” she says.

 

“You need to eat if you want to get strong enough for field work...Are you wet?” Melinda asks, even though she already knows the answer, Jemma’s shorts are too big to disguise the diaper beneath them, and Jemma nods sheepishly.

 

“That’s okay. Let’s go get you dressed; it’s about time to wake up the other little ones anyway.”

 

“There you are!” Bobbi’s voice drifts over from the entrance, and she doesn’t sound amused.

 

“Don’t you ever disappear on me like that again.”  Bobbi growls, before Melinda can ask for an explanation.

 

“Would you like me to write up an itinerary for you? Or, were you planning on keeping me on a leash?” Jemma’s voice is edgy, testing the waters.

 

Bobbi just sighs. “Jemma, I do not have the patience to put up with your attitude this morning. I would suggest that you watch your tone before you find yourself in the corner with a very sore bottom.”

 

Melinda can tell by the fire in Jemma’s eyes that the young biochemist isn’t going to be dissuaded so easily from her righteous indignation, and also that something is being kept from her.

 

“You wouldn’t.” Jemma sneers.

 

“Don’t you dare test me, young lady. You know exactly why you aren’t supposed to be down here, in the lab, or in the kitchen by yourself. We’ve discussed this before. And I’m not going to warn you about your attitude again.”

 

“What’s going on, here, Jemma?” Melinda asks, and her suspicion that she’s being deliberately kept out of the loop is immediately confirmed by the deer-in-the-headlights look on Simmons’ face.

 

“You didn’t tell her?” Bobbi wonders. “I sent you down here specifically to explain what Doctor Garner said. Apparently you can’t be trusted with that much responsibility.”

 

Melinda is disappointed by Jemma’s actions, but she doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to let Jemma speak for herself.

 

“Doctor Garner,” Jemma spits his name like a poison, her voice full of blame. “Says that I’m a potential suicide risk.”

 

Melinda’s stomach rolls. It certainly makes sense, especially given what she’s been through, and it’s made even more complicated by the fact that none of them really know what happened to her.

 

“Show her, Jemma.” Bobbi says gently, and Jemma seems to almost deflate.

 

“I don’t want to,” Jemma answers, voice breaking.

 

“It’s okay if you’re not ready.” Melinda tells her. “You can show me when you’re--”

 

Jemma rolls up her sleeve, revealing a barely visible scar on her left wrist, extending all the way up to her elbow.

 

May is at once furious and heartbroken that Jemma would be so reckless with her life, especially when there were so many people working tirelessly at home to rescue her…

 

But, she understands.

 

Because, after Bahrain, she’d been in a similar state of mind, and only Phil’s constant companionship pulled her out of it.

 

So, instead of scolding her, Melinda just pulls Jemma into another hug. “It’s alright. It’s over now.”

 

Jemma bursts into tears.

 

Melinda eases the two of them onto the floor, and pulls Jemma into her lap. “I’ve got you,” she says.

 

Jemma clings desperately to her, shaking and sobbing, fingers fisting in May’s shirt. Her diaper starts to leak on May, who doubts she even realizes it’s happening.

 

“I just...I was so tired, and I thought that if I was going to die, I wanted to do it on my own terms, instead of waiting for one of those...things to eat me.” Jemma says after a moment. And then, Fitz found me. I was almost too weak to get to him, after all the blood loss…”

 

“I’m glad you did.” May says. “Very, very glad.”

 

Jemma pulls away a little and looks up at her. “Are you angry with me?”

 

May shakes her head, rubbing soothing circles over Jemma’s back. “No. I’m disappointed with the way you spoke to Bobbi, but I’m not angry.”

 

“Are you going to spank me?”  Jemma’s voice is small and tremulous.

 

“Not this time. I know you’ve been through a lot, and it takes a while to adjust to being back. I think you definitely owe Bobbi an apology, but I’m not going to spank you.”

 

“Ever?”

 

“That depends entirely on you, little one. As long as you behave yourself, you’ll never have to find out.”

 

Jemma hums. “I don’t think Bobbi wants to speak to me…” Jemma admits. “She’s really upset.”

 

“You can always write her a letter. That way she’ll know you’re sorry, even if she doesn’t want to speak to you right this minute. Do you understand why she was so upset?”

 

“Because I scared her.”

 

“Right. Just try to remember that for next time, okay. We all love you very much, and we’d hate for anything to happen to you. Just try to remember that for next time, okay?”

 

Jemma nods. “Mommy?”

 

Melinda’s heart warms at the sound of that, it’s been too long since she’s heard her little ones’ voices. “What is it, baby?”

 

Jemma’s nose wrinkles adorably. “I’m really wet.”

 

“Okay. Good job for telling me. Let’s go get you cleaned up, and then we’ll see about breakfast.”


	5. Chapter 5

[JEMMA]

 

The pancakes are tasty, but Jemma suspects they’d be even better if Mommy or Daddy fed them to her.

 

But, Daddy is busy cutting up Daisy’s waffles, and Mommy’s talking to Bobbi.

 

“Aren’t you hungry, little one?” Mommy is asking her suddenly.

 

Jemma shrugs. She feels like she should be hungry, but after all that time on the alien planet, eating all sorts of  strange, different food, things on earth are...odd.

 

They still taste mostly the same, but she gets sick to her stomach if she tries to eat too much at once.

 

She’s eaten maybe three bites, and already her tummy is tight and anxious. She doesn’t know if she should eat anymore, but she doesn’t want the grown-ups to be cross with her.

 

Jemma takes another bite, and her stomach clenches immediately; for an awful moment, she’s afraid she’s going to throw up, but she doesn’t.

 

Her bladder twinges, and she needs to pee out of nowhere; she knows that if she doesn’t go _now_ , she won’t make it.

 

“Mommy,” She whispers, quiet and desperate. “I think I need to go to the potty.”

 

Mommy is already getting up. “Okay. Good job for telling me. Do you need me to come with you?”

 

Jemma’s too embarrassed to admit it aloud, so she just nods. Mommy’s fingers wrap gently around hers, and Jemma lets herself be led to the bathroom. Part of her wishes she’d been brave enough to ask for a diaper this morning, instead of trying to be big and wearing regular underwear like a grown-up.

 

She definitely doesn’t feel like a grown-up…Especially not when Mommy undoes the button on her pants and helps her sit on the toilet. She doesn’t even protest that they’ve gone into the baby changing room instead of the regular bathroom.

 

Jemma felt so little and she just wanted to go home and cuddle with Mommy and Daddy, and maybe have a bottle.

 

Mommy’s in front of her, holding her dummy to her lips.

 

Jemma accepts it gratefully, sucking furiously on it. It helps to calm her a little, but she still feels shaky and tired.

 

May’s getting a nappy out of the diaper bag, and Jemma wants to protest, but then she sees the damp spot on her knickers--she hadn’t even realized she was wet.

 

Jemma doesn’t mean to cry, but it’s happening anyway, tears dripping off her chin.

 

“It’s okay, little one.” Mommy says. “It’s just an accident. It’s not a big deal. You’ll be clean and dry in no time.” She takes out a big blanket from the bag and spreads it over the floor so Jemma has a soft, clean place to lay down.

 

Jemma lies obediently on the blanket and lets May fasten the diaper, helping by lifting her hips when May says so.

 

“I’m a bad agent.” Jemma realizes aloud. She’s meant to be eating more now, making healthy, responsible decisions, but that seems like too much somehow.

 

“That is absolutely not true, baby.” May’s voice is firm, not allowing for any arguments, but also gentle and safe.

 

Jemma isn’t sure she believes that, not really, but she knows Mommy will be cross with her if she argues. She leans against May, fingers curling in her shirt.

 

They stayed like that for a while, until Jemma felt herself drifting.

 

“We need to get you home, baby.” Mommy said. “You need to go down for a nap.”

 

Jemma wanted to argue, to explain that she was way too big to need a nap, but at the same time she was grateful that Mommy was making all the decisions.

 

She rests her cheek against May’s breast. She really wants to nurse, but she knows it isn’t okay to want that; not right now, at least. That thought kind of makes her want to cry.

 

“I know, little one, I know.” May rocks her gently.

 

Jemma just curls closer to her, sucking her dummy and breathing in May’s soft, safe scent.

 

“I know you’re tired, baby, but let’s get up, before you fall asleep on the floor.” Mommy says.

 

Part of Jemma is irritated , because she’d been about to fall asleep, but she knows it would be unfair to expect May to carry her.

 

“‘Kay,” Jemma says, and Mommy helps her to sit up. It feels like someone has sucked all the energy from her limbs.

 

It takes her a moment to gather the energy to actually stand, she very nearly tumbles to the ground again.

 

There’s a knock at the door, and Bobbi says:

 

“It’s just me,” before letting herself in. “Everything okay, guys?”

 

Jemma finds herself reaching for Bobbi without really meaning to. She really just wants to be held, because she definitely isn’t a big girl. And, she won’t feel like such a burden, since Bobbi is so much bigger than her.

 

“Aww,” Bobbi coos, and Jemma wishes she felt big enough to be embarrassed about being so needy, but she mostly just feels safe. “C’mere, honey. You look exhausted.”

 

Bobbi lifts her easily, settling Jemma on her hip. Her hand slides under Jemma’s shirt to rub her back, just like Mommy does at bedtime. “I’ve got you, munchkin.” Bobbi says, and Jemma rests her head on Bobbi’s shoulder.

 

Bobbi’s talking again, soft and quiet to Mommy, and Jemma knows that they're probably discussing her; but, she’s little and doesn’t have to pay attention. Instead, she just focuses on Bobbi’s heartbeat and sucks her dummy, and she doesn’t feel so overwhelmed.

 

*.*.*.*.

 

Daisy is next to her in bed when she wakes up.

 

She’s been letting her hair grow out again, and Jemma thinks it makes her look littler, but she probably knows that already.

 

It’s nice to have hair long enough for May to tie back, Jemma thinks.

 

Daisy stirs, an arm flopping over Jemma’s hip. It’s only then that Jemma realizes that she’s dressed in just a long t-shirt, and a diaper, the sheets cool against her legs.

 

Daisy cuddles in closer, her hair tickling Jemma’s face.

 

“Hi, little ones,” It’s Bobbi, this time, not Mommy, though Jemma knows that she’s probably busy.

 

“Hi,” Jemma says quietly, since Skye is still asleep.

 

“Did you have a nice nap, cutie?” Bobbi asks.

 

Jemma nods and crawls over to Bobbi for a hug.

 

Her diaper squishes against her when Bobbi pulls her into her lap, but she’s not worried about it. She’s very little, and it’s not her responsibility to keep dry.

 

“Uh-oh,” Bobbi smiles and leans in to kiss Jemma’s nose. “I think someone needs a clean diaper.”

 

Jemma shakes her head. She isn’t that wet, and she wants to go play. She can wait.

 

“Oh, I definitely think so, babe. You Mommy will be very upset with me if I let you get a rash.” Bobbi says calmly, and Jemma knows she won’t be able to talk her way out of this.

 

Jemma sighs, but lays down so Bobbi can change her.

 

Bobbi doesn’t bother putting pants in her when she’s done, she just pats Jemma’s bottom.

 

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

 

Jemma shakes her head. Even though she doesn’t want to admit it, it does feel better to be clean and dry.

 

Bobbi kisses her forehead. “Do you want your binky?”

 

Jemma nods, sucking rhythmically on it when Bobbi slides it between her teeth.

 

Mommy comes into the room then, and Jemma scrambles off of Bobbi’s lap to give her a hug.

 

“Well, hello, baby.” Mommy says, kissing the top of her head. “Did you have a good nap?”

 

Jemma nods, cuddling in close to Mommy.

 

“Do you feel up to training later tonight? It’ll be easy, just some basic self-defense things, and some light exercise.”

 

Jemma bites her lip. She’s excited to start training, but she’ll probably have to take off her diaper for that, and she isn’t sure she can give up that security. She squirms.

 

“Is it okay to wear a pull-up for training?” Jemma wonders quietly.

 

Mommy nods. “I think that would be a good idea. You can even stay in your diaper if you want.”

 

Jemma hums contentedly. “Okay,”

 

“Mommy!” Daisy cheers from behind her in a hushed voice.

 

“Hello, sweetheart.” Mommy says. “Did you sleep alright?

 

Daisy nods. She yawns and sucks her thumb for a moment before speaking.

 

“I’m really wet, Mommy.”

 

Mommy lets go of her to go sit next to Daisy. She smooths the hair out of Daisy’s face and kisses her forehead.

 

“Good job for telling me.” Mommy said. “Let’s get you changed, and then we’ll have lunch.”

 

Bobbi kneels down next to Jemma. “Are you hungry, munchkin?” she asks.

 

Jemma shrugs, her paci bobbing in her mouth. She isn’t sure. She doesn’t feel hungry, not like she’d been on the blue planet, but maybe she could eat something.

 

She lifts her arms and looks at Bobbi hopefully. “Up?” she says, and is immediately embarrassed at having done so.

 

Bobbi just smiles and lifts Jemma onto her hip as she stands. “Come on, cutie. Let’s go see what’s in the kitchen.”

 

*.*.*.*.

 

[DAISY]

 

She starts crying as soon as Bobbi and Jemma are gone.

 

She’d dreamt about the _Illiad_ during her nap, and how Jaiying, the woman she’d searched for her entire life, had tried to kill her.

 

Her own mother, _had tried to kill her_.

 

And, in self defense, she’d responded in kind.

 

It felt awful.

 

May pulls her close. “I’m right here, sweetheart.” She combs through Daisy’s hair with her fingers, her nails scratching gently over her scalp.

 

“Mommy…” Daisy begins. “I did a bad thing…” she swallows hard. “I tried to…” the word kill is heavy, makes her nauseous, and she can’t say it. “I tried to hurt someone. But it was to protect other people.”

 

Mommy nods, like she knows exactly what Daisy is talking about.

 

Daisy swallows hard. “My mother tried to kill me.” she says.

 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Mommy says. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

 

Daisy swallows hard. “I...I don’t want you to call me Daisy anymore.” she says. “I just want to be Skye again. Maybe ‘Daisy’ can be my middle name.”

 

Mommy nods. “If you’re sure.”

 

“I am.” Daisy says. “Jaiying might have given birth to me and named me, but she wasn’t my Mommy.”

 

May pulls her close and kisses her forehead.

 

“You are, you know.” Skye says.

 

“Your Mommy?” May wonders, rubbing Skye’s back.

 

“Yes. But I was talking about before...in _Afterlife_. You said that you ‘hoped my mother was everything I wanted her to be.’ I just thought you’d like to know that.”

 

May smiles. “I’m glad you think so, baby.”


	6. Chapter 6

[SKYE]

 

“ _ Jemma _ ,” Bobbi coos, her voice drifting around the corner.

 

Skye realizes that Jemma is crying,  _ hard _ , and even though she’s exhausted and wants nothing more than to shower and go to sleep, she can’t bring herself to ignore Jemma’s sobs.

 

Skye heads into the kitchen to investigate, and wishes she was surprised to see Jemma curled up under the table, hands clamped over her ears.

 

“What happened?” She mouths at Bobbi.

 

“She cut herself trying to help me with dinner, and she just started panicking. I’ve been trying to get her out from under the table for half an hour now.” Bobbi’s voice betrays her frustration.

 

Skye looks over at the table. It would be so easy to recreate the blanket fort they use when they’re little and feeling a little overwhelmed, and maybe that will help. “Can you get Mommy?”

 

Bobbi nods. “I’ll be right back. Keep an eye on her for me; I’ll stop by Coulson’s office to let him know what’s going on--I was afraid to leave Jemma by herself.

 

“Okay. I’ll stay with her.” Skye says, and crawls under the table to sit next to Jemma. It’s a tight fit, and another visceral reminder that as much as she wishes she were little, she still has an adult body, so sitting under the table isn’t nearly as comfortable as she’d like it to be.

 

Jemma clings to her immediately, her bony knees and elbows digging into Skye as she tries to settle on her lap.

 

“It’s gonna  _ get _ me…” she whimpers.

 

“It’s okay, Jems. You’re safe.” Skye tells her, rubbing her back like Mommy does for her when she’s scared. She hopes it helps. “I’ve got you.”

 

It takes a while, but Jemma’s sobs eventually quiet down, though she still trembles against Skye.

 

“Do you want to go sit on the couch? I bet it’s more comfortable than the floor.” Skye suggests.

 

Jemma nods and crawls out from under the table.

 

Skye clambers out after her, her knees protesting at being pressed into the floor. She stands up, wincing at the popping of her joints, and feels a tug on her shirt.

 

Jemma looks up at her, eyes red from crying, and lifts her arms expectantly.

 

“I’m sorry Jemma, I can’t carry you. But, I can give you a piggyback if you want…” Skye kneels so Jemma can climb onto her back, and then slowly makes her way over to the couch.

 

Jemma waits for her to sit down, and then crawls into her lap again. She doesn’t say anything, she just tucks her head under Skye’s chin.

 

Skye tries to rock her, because that’s what Mommy would do, but it doesn’t feel like she’s doing it right.

  
  


“Hello, little ones.” Mommy says from the doorway. “Bobbi says you’re having a rough day.”

 

Skye nods. Mostly for Jemma’s sake, but she’s not feeling the best either, even though she doesn’t want to say so when Jemma’s so upset… 

 

Jemma just reaches for Mommy, and Skye realizes how little she must be feeling, since she still hasn’t spoken.

 

Mommy gathers Jemma onto her lap and kisses her temple. “Shh.” She whispers, stroking Jemma’s hair. “I’ve got you, little one. It’s okay.”

 

Jemma seems to relax at this, finally.

 

“Are you wet, sweetheart?”

 

Jemma shrugs.

 

“You don’t know? Hmm. Should we check?” 

 

Skye can tell that Mommy is trying to get Jemma talking, even if Jemma doesn’t seem to be up to it.

 

Mommy pat’s Jemma’s bottom. “I think so. Let’s go change you, and then you can have a bottle, hmm. And we’ll read a story…”

 

“Okay,” Jemma says quietly.

 

“You too, Skye.” Mommy continues, and Skye wonders how she  _ always _ knows when she needs to be changed. She follows after May obediently and sits calmly next to Jemma on the bed, reaching under the pillow for her blanket.

 

Skye rubs the blanket absently over her cheek as May begins changing Jemma; Jemma’s small fingers wind themselves into the loose fabric of her pants. She reaches over and strokes Jemma’s hair gently.

 

“It’s okay,” she says, even though she knows it really isn’t.

 

Jemma doesn’t say anything, she just lays there, limp and pliant, moving only when May asks her to.

 

“You need a bath, little one.” May says. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting a rash?”

 

Jemma shrugs. “I don’t know…”

 

“I’m not upset,” May says calmly. “I just don’t want you to be in pain. I wish you would have said something sooner.”

 

“‘M sorry.”

 

“You don’t have to be sorry, sweetheart. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I should have realized you were feeling too little to tell me.”

 

Jemma looks a little embarrassed, but she doesn’t argue.

 

“Okay, Skye, your turn.” Mommy says, helping Jemma to stand up. “Jemma, do you want to go pick out some bath toys?”

 

Jemma shakes her head and threads her finger through Mommy’s belt loop. “Want to stay with you, Mama.” She says quietly.

 

Skye wishes she could do more for Jemma-they  _ are _ best friends after all-but she definitely isn’t a grown-up, and the best she can give is a hug.

 

Mommy kisses her forehead when she’s done. “All done, baby. Do you want to pick out some toys for the bath?”

 

Skye shrugs; she isn’t in a particularly playful mood. She’s not wearing anything on her bottom half, but she’s not embarrassed, since it’s just her, mommy, and Jemma.

 

Mommy looks at both of them. “Well, if you don’t want to play in the bath, maybe we can read a bedtime story instead, hmm? Or maybe watch a movie…”

 

Skye feels herself smiling a little, it’s definitely a special treat for Mommy to let them watch TV before bed.

 

The bath is warm and cozy; the water is just the right temperature and Mommy’s hands are gentle and soothing.

 

It’s hard not to fall asleep--she hadn’t realized that she was so tired. 

 

The next thing Skye knows, Mommy is helping her into her sleeper--doing most of the work really. She realizes that Mommy can’t have carried her, but sometimes she loses bits of time when she’s really tired.

 

Jemma’s already curled up under the covers, sucking her paci and staring at the TV with half-lidded eyes.

 

Skye doesn’t think that Jemma’s really watching, but then they’ve both seen  _ Mulan _ at least a hundred times by now.

 

“Do you need to nurse, baby?” Mommy was asking.

 

Skye nods. It’s been  _ way _ too long since she’s been able to nurse, since Mommy was away for so long.

 

She latches on, and her eyes grow heavy almost immediately. She starts drifting before she’s gotten comfortable, it’s been too long since she’s had an adequate night’s rest and her sleep deprivation is catching up with her.

 

“G’night, Mommy. I love you.”

 

Mommy kisses her temple. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

 

*.*.*.*.

 

[JEMMA]

 

Jemma wakes up, too hot, with an uncomfortably full bladder. Her tummy hurts too, and her head, and it’s all too much, and she just wants her Mommy. She wets her diaper without really meaning to, and feels a rush of shame at her accident.

 

Her embarrassment only grows when she realizes that her diaper was already wet, and although she hasn’t leaked, she knows it won’t take another wetting, and the skin is already beginning to itch…

 

And when she feels around on the bed, searching blindly for Mommy’s warmth, and security, she discovers that she is alone; and she bursts into tears. The thought of wandering the base looking for a grown-up in this state is terrifying, especially once she realizes that the pain in her tummy is due in equal parts to her anxiety and to because she needs to visit the bathroom.

 

“Mommy,” she calls out pitifully, her voice still raw, throat sore as she acclimatizes to life back on earth.

 

Just when she is about to give up hope and assume that everyone has finally left her for good, May is at her side.

 

“Shh.” She whispers climbing onto the bed beside Jemma and pulling her into her lap. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. You’re safe, little one, it’s okay.”

 

Jemma just clings to Mommy, pressing her wet, snotty face into May’s shirt. “Mommy all gone,” she says, even though that isn’t what she’d planned on saying. Still, it gets the point across.

 

“Skye and the rest of the team had to go on a mission. They should be back tonight, but I was just getting an update from Daddy. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

Jemma’s heart unclenches a little at that, but the uncomfortable pressure in her tummy only intensifies. She realizes that she has to say something  _ now _ if she wants to make it to the potty, and even then, it’s not a guarantee. 

 

“Mama?” Jemma wonders. “I hafta go potty…”

 

Mommy kisses her forehead. “Okay. Let’s go, then. Good job for telling me, sweetheart.”

 

However Jemma’s body has other ideas, and she barely has time to brace herself before her body decides that she’s waited for too long, and takes matters into its own hands. She gasps and scrambles over the side of the bed to hide.

 

“Jemma? What’s the matter?”

 

“Mommy...I’m...” the words come out in an embarrassed, disbelieving rush and she can’t bring herself to admit what’s happening; even though she knows it must be obvious... She feels so Little and ashamed and tiny and vulnerable, and she hoped Mommy isn’t mad at her. She really didn’t mean to have an accident, honest...

 

But, Mommy seems to know what’s going on anyway. “That’s what your diaper is for, baby. I know it’s icky, but tell me when you’re done, and we’ll go clean up.” Mommy strokes her hair. “I’m not upset, I promise.”

 

It  _ is  _ icky, that’s for sure, but it’s bearable, because she knows Mommy will make it all better.

 

“All done.” Jemma says. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You don’t have to be sorry, honey.” May says quietly. “Come here, and we’ll get you all fresh and clean again.

 

Jemma takes Mommy’s hand and allows herself to be led to the bathroom. It’s slow going, mostly because her legs have decided that they are  _ not _ on-board with this ‘walking’ nonsense, and Jemma ends up crawling the rest of the way.

 

Mommy looks genuinely concerned when Jemma sinks to the floor, following May on her hands and knees.

 

“Jemma? Are you okay?” May pauses and kneels down in front of her.

 

Jemma nods. “Legs hurt, Mommy.” she explains.

 

“Has this been happening a lot, lately?”

 

Jemma isn’t sure she wants to answer, because it _ has  _ been happening more recently, but she’s embarrassed to admit it. Fitz and Bobbi are more than capable of carrying her, and Skye will give her piggy-back rides if she asks nicely.

 

“Jemma Elizabeth Simmons…” Mommy’s voice is stern, but not angry, and Jemma knows her silence has given her away. “You, of all people should know better than to hide something so serious. What if this had happened in an emergency, or on a mission, or when you were here by yourself?”

 

“I...I didn’t think of that.” Jemma admits sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”

 

Mommy just sighs. “It’s okay. I just wish you’d have told me sooner. I think it might be time to start thinking about some physical therapy, little one, just to help you get used to being back.”

 

Jemma shakes her head vehemently. She  _ hates _ therapy.

 

“It’s just a fancy name for supervised exercise. We don’t have to do anything about it just yet, though. For now, lets just change your diaper, and then we’ll see about breakfast.”

 

The change takes a while, but Jemma’s happy to be clean again, and she wishes that Skye was home to play with her, but she knows that Skye is working. 

 

In a surprising display of strength, May lifts Jemma and carries her to the kitchen. Jemma tries to help by wrapping her legs around Mommy’s waist, but she’s not sure how much good it does…

 

“What would you like to eat, little one?” Mommy’s asking. “I know you’ll want a bottle, but you need real food, too.”

 

Jemma shrugs. “‘nanas?”

 

“Bananas are yummy, aren’t they? How about some waffles? And maybe some other fruit, too.”

 

“Coffee?” Jemma asks.

 

Mommy just looks at her and raises an eyebrow. “No. Little ones can’t have coffee. Then they get wound up, and rambunctious, and they don’t go down for their naps. And then they get grumpy. How about some hot chocolate instead?”

 

Jemma grins. That sounds like a good compromise. “Okay.”

 

Mommy deposits her at the table with some dry cereal while she starts making breakfast.

 

It doesn’t take Mommy long to finish breakfast, and before Jemma’s had time to finish her snack, Mommy’s helping her onto her lap.

 

“Guess what, Mama?” Jemma ventures.

 

“What is it, little one?”

 

“I love you,” Jemma answers.

Mommy smiles and stops cutting up Jemma’s  food to give her a hug.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”


End file.
